Reference Materials
by ElaineMc
Summary: Mace Windu tells Obi-Wan a story. So does Qui-Gon. It's sort of a he said / he said thing.


Reference Materials

TITLE: Reference Materials   
DISCLAIMER: LucasFilm owns all. I'm just borrowing.   
SUMMARY: Mace Windu tells Obi-Wan a story. So does Qui-Gon. Did I mention that "Bad Blood" kicks much @ss? Well, it does.   
NOTES: Just like the others in this sort-of-series, this story is 100% plot-free. This is for [Cinder RJK][1]. [13floor@angelfire.com][1]

---------- 

I remember it well. We were on Meridian-- a beautiful planet, all green and lush, in the equally green and lush county of Clyr, in the city of Visey. It was a sunny day, warm and... well, sunny. We'd finished our duties to our Master, and we were looking for something to do to amuse ourselves.

Master Yoda said to us, "Safe this area is; but cautious and watchful, Jedi must be."

We nodded obediently-- good little padawan learners!-- and went off to amuse ourselves. At least, we tried to. Your Master wasn't very helpful.

"We can't go to the market," he said, glaring at me. He wasn't very good at it. 

See, we were, oh, seventeen, I guess. Your master got it into his head that growing a beard would make him look more dignified. Yes, I know it works now, but it didn't then. It was all... well, raggedy. Like that womprat he dragged home, remember? Like that. All patchy.

My point is, he was trying to be more mature, and he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Maybe if he hadn't spent so much time in trouble... well. Besides, you don't learn how to glare properly until you pass your Trials. It's a class-- Facial Expressions 7320. No, no, really. Okay, anyway.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Weren't you paying attention?" he asked back. "The merchants rook strangers, to start with. There are footpads in every dark alley. And there are loose women on every corner."

"What's the down side?"

"Mace!" It was obvious he was scandalised, always the cautious one. City boy, you know. It's in the genetics.

"We're not going to go out for a night of debauchery, Qui. We're going to see a little of the town. Mix with the natives. Jedi should not put themselves above others."

He nodded, not completely convinced. "That's true."

"Great. So let's go."

The market was great. People everywhere, arguing and buying and haggling and talking. You could feel the energy everywhere, of all these people. The air smelled like fruit and spices. It was nothing like Coruscant. I've always liked the outdoors; but my people are all farmers. 

We didn't have a lot of money, but it didn't really matter. Jedi are above material possessions. And anyway, we were only out to have some fun. Well, I was. Your Master was out to keep me from having any. Fun, I mean.

We sat down in a little outdoors tavern. Really pretty place, with these trellises, and vines winding over them. Fresh air, and the sun was starting to set. We ordered some of the local wine. It was good stuff, too, light and sweet. They knew about Jedi here, so we got some looks, but nothing unfriendly, which was a relief. Well... no, no, it isn't that people are afraid of us. We're just different, and that makes people nervous.

So we sat down and had a drink-- just one drink, mind you. We made it last, though. We were talking about... life, I guess. Why we were here, what it meant to be a Jedi. The kind of things that very young men talk about. You'll see for yourself, in another few years.

We were just getting into the old free-will debate when they walked up. I still remember it. They were gorgeous-- two local women, in the long, loose robes everyone wore. Tall, both of them, and strong. Bright eyes, glossy hair-- hmm? Yeah, I know. You think girls are gross. Just wait a while. Anyway, they came up and joined us.

I was my regular charming self. Qui-Gon, on the other hand, was his old Post self. Dead silent, no expression on his face. Well, until Tseri rested her hand on his-- uh. On his arm. Yeah, his arm. Then he got the goofiest smile on his-- what? 

You were just being polite? Sure. Fine. Whatever. What? Listen, Qui-Gon. Who's telling this story? You or I? Okay, then. 

So, he got the **politest** smile on his face. 

"Have you had a chance to see the city yet?" Tseli asked me.

"No, not yet. We haven't had any real free time."

"Well, why don't you come with us? We could show you our--" 

Uh... gardens. Yeah. Visey was known for its botanical gardens. Wasn't it, Qui-Gon? 

"We could show you our beautiful botanical gardens," she offered.

Now, I admit I had second thoughts. I mean, here we were, strangers in a strange land... going off into the darkness with some other strangers didn't seem too smart, even if the gardens **were** incredibly tempting. But we were Jedi. Surely we could take care of ourselves?

"The gardens are fine," I said.

Qui-Gon just kept smiling. Tseri had quite a hold on his... arm.

So we went off to the gardens. I had Qui-Gon call on his commlink to let Master Yoda know where we were. 

"Good idea," I said, approvingly. "You're going to make a good Jedi."

By then, he was showing Tseri his lightsaber, so he didn't hear me. 

The gardens were incredible. I'd never seen a garden before-- at least, not one like those. Warm, and sweet-scented, and wet with, uh, humidity. Just incredible. I don't know what Qui-Gon did. But I know, I spent quite a while touring the gardens, with Tseli. Hours, I guess.

We met up again at the same little tavern for another drink. It was kind of late then, but we'd still be in well before midnight. 

"You know," I said, "it's such a beautiful night. Maybe we could take another stroll through the--"

And that's when things got a little uncomfortable. Two young men came up to our table. They were glaring, and doing it a lot better than Qui-Gon did.

"Offworlders," one said.

"Taking advantage of our women," the other said.

Both of them dropped their arms to their sides, fists clenched.

I tried to explain the situation, using all my tact and diploma-- what was that, Qui-Gon? Did you say something? I didn't think so.

Anyway, I tried to explain things, but they weren't being particularly logical. I expostulated; they riposted. I had one of them wriggling in the grasp of my rational exposition, and was certain of success, when the other one utilised superior technology and felled your Master.

Hmm? Oh. Well, you know Qui-Gon. Only the very finest of weaponry could lay him low. Hmm. Oh. Well, actually, the boy hit him with a stick. But it was a big stick. Yes, in the nose. Broke it. I was impressed.

At about that time, the local authorities showed up and-- what is it **now**? 

---------- 

I said, I want to tell how it really happened. Because, I assure you, your version isn't entirely accurate.

I won't deny that Meridian was lovely; although Coruscant is more to my taste. But then, I was raised here, so I admit to some bias. It was very bright, and hot, and I was ready to rest, not being accustomed to such tropical heat. We had done our duty to Master Yoda. He gave us permission to go out; and told us to be careful. For some odd reason, every time we went to find amusement, we ended up actually finding trouble. 

Let the record show that Master Mace is **very** skilled at finding trouble.

"We can't go to the market," I said to him. "We're new, and we don't know our way around. Let's stay close by, just for today."

"But **I** want to go to the market!" he insisted. "Why can't we?"

In those days, Mace was still trying to find a means of personal expression. He had grown out all of his hair in braids, not just the padawan tail. It was... eye-catching. He strongly resembled a mophead. And, in those days, he was about thirty pounds lighter than I; so the resemblance to a mop was even more marked.

I admit to being frustrated; he clearly hadn't paid any attention to the briefing we'd been given. "We'll be cheated by every shopowner; unless we're attacked by muggers. And there are loose women on every corner."

"What's the down side?" he asked, grinning.

"Mace!" I shook my head. Let a farm boy out of the country, and they're impossible.

And he **didn't** say debauchery. Hmmm? Uh. Well, never mind **what** he said. No, it doesn't matter. No, it isn't-- I'll explain when you're older. A lot older. No, not-- do you want to hear the rest, Obi-Wan?

Anyway, he said, "We're not going to go out all night, Qui. We're going to see a little of the town. Mix with the natives. Jedi should not put themselves above others."

"That's true." I hated to admit it, but he had a point. Jedi aren't supposed to behave as if they're superior. 

"Great. So let's go." He grabbed my arm, and we were off.

The market was noisy, and smelly, and crowded. And, of course, Mace found the noisiest, smelliest, and most crowded tavern for us to 'relax' in. At least it was outdoors; the air was clean, and the sun was just beginning to go down, so you couldn't see how filthy the tables were.

What? Yes, sometimes being a Jedi can cause trouble. But Mace is right; it isn't out of malice. It's out of fear. People fear those who are different from them. Sometimes they cite religion , sometimes it's ideology. But it's always got the same base: fear.

We sat down to talk and drink. The wine was very good, and not very strong, which was a relief. I don't really remember what we were discussing. It might well have been free will. But when the two women walked up, I knew we were in trouble. But they **were** very attractive. I don't deny that, at all. Mace was... uh... enthusiastic. I was reserved, but suave. Shut up, Mace. I admit, my reserve lessened slightly when Tseri-- the older of the sisters-- took me in hand. Uh, so to speak.

"Have you had a chance to see the city yet?" Tseli asked Mace, in a very friendly fashion.

He admitted we hadn't been dirtside long enough to do any real sightseeing.

"We'd be delighted to take you on. We could show you our gardens," she offered. As Mace noted, there were some incredible gardens.

"Let's go!" Mace said, and we were off, without any hesitation, or any contemplation, or indeed, any actual brain activity.

I wasn't able to participate actively in the decision. Tseri had quite a hold on my attention. One doesn't wish to be rude, after all. I did call in to Master Yoda, not that Mace noticed. He was too busy telling Tseli all about his incredible prowess. Uh... academic prowess. He was almost the top of our class, you know.

I remember that night very clearly. Although I was far more sophisticated than Mace, it was still my first garden, and I was astounded. I'd never imagined that a garden could be so... well. I explored for a very, very long time. In fact, Mace and Tseli had to wait for us in the tavern for an hour or so before we stopped. 

Mace had just begun to suggest that we might visit the gardens again, when two young men came up to our table. 

"Uh-oh," Tseri muttered.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Offworlders," one of the lads growled

"Those are our men," she whispered. "They--"

Uh. Well. Yes, Mace, thank you. It seems their young men had visited gardens in another city, and Tseli and Tseri had taken us up in revenge.

Mace handled the situation as well as usual; which is to say, with all the subtlety and delicacy of a prison riot. As usual, I had to intervene in order to prevent his untimely demise. And, as usual, I ended up paying for it, in the form of a big stick in the nose. The local police arrived on the scene, and things went badly, after that.

---------- 

"So you got in a fight over **plants**?" Obi-Wan asked, skeptical.

Qui-Gon and Mace nodded.

"I bet Master Yoda was mad."

"He was," Mace said, wincing.

"Did he yell?"

"No... in fact, he didn't even say anything. That's how mad he was."

"Wow."

"We spent the rest of our free time on the trip-- nearly three weeks-- in meditation: learning how to moderate our interest in, ah, botany," Qui-Gon added. "It was nearly a year before I could even think of, uh, flowers without shuddering."

Mace nodded agreement.

"Well, that's enough tarnishing my reputation for one night," Qui-Gon said. "Time for bed, Obi-Wan."

The ten-year-old stretched. "Okay. Good night, sir. Good night, Master Mace."

"Good night, Obi-Wan."

The two Masters, left alone, were quiet for a long moment, contemplating days past. Then: 

"OW!" Mace Windu sat up, indignant, rubbing the back of his head, glaring at the other Jedi.

"My beard did **not** look like a molting womp rat."

"I'm only saying this because I'm your friend, Qui-Gon."

"What?"

"It looked worse."

Mace barely made it out the door before his friend's boot smacked the other side.

END

   [1]: mailto:13floor@angelfire.com



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